Rating/Warnings: R, Nika is 16 when the fic starts and Yokoo is...not.
Summary: Yokoo knows Nikaido doesn't know exactly what he's asking for, but it doesn't stop him asking for it.
AN: OKAY SO. I got linked these gifs (scroll down to the comments), which are from god knows what AV film, but as soon as I read "it looks like Yokoo+16yo Nika" that was all I could see. And then of course you-know-who started in about how Nika would totally have no idea what he was asking for but look so hot/cute asking for it and drive Yokoo crazy, and...that was pretty much the end of my self-control.
He Started It
Sixteen-year-old Nikaido Takashi is all legs and no common sense. He's a magnet for trouble and roller-skating accidents, plays up his brat act for all its worth, and is more than cute enough to get away with it generally.
"Yokoo-san~," Nikaido purrs, appearing against Yokoo's side suddenly enough that it makes Yokoo jump a little. "Come with me to the vending machine?" He tugs at Yokoo's arm and looks up at him with a grin. He doesn't do the big-eyes-cute-pout like Senga can; Nikaido goes for the mischievous grin and the invasion of personal space when he wants something. It works just as well, certainly, maybe a little better on Yokoo.
When that was all it was, Yokoo would roll his eyes a bit and then give in, the whole thing hardly worth mentioning. But then some moron taught Nikaido to flirt.
Some of it's harmless, a wink when Nikaido notices Yokoo's eyes on him, a smirk when Nikaido has Yokoo's attention and knows it, an extra body roll or booty shake that could very plausibly be just practice. It's not so harmless when Nikaido's invasion of personal space starts to include crawling into Yokoo's lap.
"Off," Yokoo orders, struggling to keep his face neutral. It's not easy as Nikaido squirms a little, making himself more comfortable.
"Mm, but you're comfortable," Nikaido says. The way he murmurs Yokoo's name makes Yokoo curl his hands into fists to keep from putting them where he wants to.
"Are you sure you want to play that way, Nika-chan?" Yokoo tries to make it a warning, but it comes out silkier than he intends. He uncurls one hand to trail fingers just under the edge of Nikaido's T-shirt, across the warm, soft skin of his back. "I don’t think you are."
"I know what I'm doing!" The flash of defiance in Nikaido's eyes is entirely appealing, and it takes Yokoo a full second to remind himself that Nikaido is almost certainly bluffing.
Fortunately for Yokoo, Senga starts agitating for attention just then. When Nikaido slides out of Yokoo's lap and they dash off to wreak havoc elsewhere, Yokoo breathes a little sigh of relief as he adjusts his jeans.
"I saw that," Fujigaya comments from across the room. Yokoo looks up, and Fujigaya is leaning against the counter in front of the mirror, arms crossed. "You know better than that."
"I didn't do anything," Yokoo replies curtly. "You saw him come over here and start."
"You know he's got no idea what he's asking for, right?" Fujigaya clicks his tongue. "Or is that what you find appealing about it?"
"The last thing I need is senpai advice from Fujigaya Fuck Me Tackey Taisuke," Yokoo says, Fujigaya's direct hit making Yokoo's hackles rise.
"Hey!" Fujigaya snaps back. "It's not my fault you're a pervert! I don't suppose you have anything to say about this?" he demands as Kitayama saunters by.
"Don't fuck anybody on that couch, I nap on there," is Kitayama's final word on the matter, clearly uninterested in the whole matter.
"Sure, no problem! Just ignore all the crap and leave me to have all the unpleasant conversations!" Fujigaya shouts after him, and then a couple choice names besides.
"For fuck's sake, ease up," Yokoo says, "honestly," and if it only infuriates Fujigaya further, it's kind of a relief when Fujigaya decides he isn't speaking to any of them for the rest of the afternoon.
As for the original problem, Yokoo takes a lot of deep breaths when Nikaido gets too blasé about personal space, and otherwise just tries to avoid looking interested or even meeting Nikaido's eyes if any sort of hip-thrusting is even a possibility. During skating practice being knocked over and tangled in a heap of limbs with Nikaido is a regular occurrence, but he tries to distract himself with the most unappealing mental images he can come up with.
"Kawai in a sexy nurse outfit," he murmurs.
"What?" Nikaido asks, his position flat on his back under Yokoo entirely appealing and one of his legs hooked around Yokoo's thigh.
"Nothing," Yokoo says quickly, and shit, this isn't working at all.
Nikaido is often there first when Yokoo arrives for a morning practice or shoot. Lacking an audience or any accomplices, Nikaido is sitting on the couch reading Shounen Jump when Yokoo sticks his head in the dressing room. This unusually peaceful Nikaido is cute enough, Yokoo supposes, forcing the corners of his mouth back down when they want to curl up.
"Ah, it's you," Nikaido says when he notices Yokoo. Yokoo strolls into the room like he hasn't been lurking creepily in the doorway even a little. "Want to read too? I don't mind sharing."
There's really nothing else to do, so Yokoo sits on the couch. Since Nikaido had plopped himself down in the exact center, it means Yokoo has to sit close enough that he can feel the warmth of Nikaido's thigh along his own. He puts his arm on the back of the couch for balance as he leans close enough to see which comic Nikaido is reading.
"One Piece?" Yokoo asks, for the sake of conversation.
"Mmhmm." Nikaido nods, turning a page. "Pirates are the best! You think we'll get to be pirates soon? Lots of other groups do it, so…"
He looks up, face too close and smirk too cute, and that's it. Yokoo's arm slides off the back of the couch to curl around Nikaido's shoulders, and he's leaning in to press their mouths together before his brain can catch up with his body. Not that he's interested in what his brain has to say.
Nikaido's lips are warm, his lower lip a bit rough from his nervous habit of biting it. He's still at first, not protesting but barely cooperating either, but after a few beats he leans into it. Yokoo brings his free hand up to cup Nikaido's cheek, thumbing his cheekbone. He hears the flutter of pages that must be the Shounen Jump sliding from Nikaido's lap, and then Nikaido's hands are tugging on the front of his shirt.
"Hmm," Yokoo purrs into the kiss, giving in to the situation entirely since Nikaido doesn't seem to have any complaints. He's compliant at first, lips opening right away when Yokoo licks at them, but gets bold quickly. When Yokoo draws his tongue back, Nikaido chases it with his own, his unpracticed exploration of Yokoo's mouth making Yokoo's nerves sing.
He grabs Nikaido's shoulders and the kiss breaks as he pushes Nikaido down, onto his back. Nikaido blinks up at him, cheeks pink and chest heaving, and Yokoo has to take a deep breath before things get entirely out of hand.
"Last chance," Yokoo says, and if his voice is low at least he manages to keep it mostly even. "Are you sure you want to play like this, Nika-chan?"
"I know what I'm doing," Nikaido insists, the scowl even cuter with his lower lip starting to puff up.
"Do you?" Yokoo asks silkily. "Then why don't you tell me what you want?"
"I…" Nikaido's cheeks go from pink to red and his mouth works for a second but he doesn't manage to get much out. Squirming, he whines Yokoo's name instead.
But just when Yokoo is opening his mouth to say what a mistake this is, Nikaido leans up suddenly. He wraps arms around Yokoo's neck, tugging him down, their chests pressed together.
"You," he says, voice gruff with embarrassment. "That's what I want."
Yokoo's resistance collapses like a set of cheap risers, and he seizes Nikaido's mouth again. When he presses sharp teeth to Nikaido's lips, Nikaido whimpers, and when he works a knee in between Nikaido's thighs, Nikaido grinds up against it shamelessly, obviously hard. There's a joke in here about teenage stamina, but Yokoo feels no urge to pull back far enough to make it.
He thinks about letting Nikaido get himself off like this, knowing it would be messy but hot. It's been years since Yokoo's own rushed, fumbling teenage experimentation, so it does hold an appeal. On the other hand, Yokoo wouldn't get to see or touch Nikaido properly, and those are two things that he definitely isn't willing to give up, at least the first time.
Nikaido whines when Yokoo sits up, tightening his grip on Yokoo's shirt to try and drag him back down.
"Oh shush," Yokoo says. He runs knuckles over the bulge in Nikaido's pants, and Nikaido arches towards the touch, hissing. "Since you won't tell me what you want, I'll just have to take care of you. You trust me, Nika-chan?"
He can see the struggle in Nikaido's expression, his stubborn streak making it hard for him to give in so easily, to give up control. It makes it all the sweeter when Nikaido relaxes against the couch cushions, totally in Yokoo's hands.
"Yeah," he says, his eyes dark under low lids when he meets Yokoo's gaze. "Because you take care when you do everything. So you'll take care of me too."
Nikaido's surrender makes more heat rush through Yokoo's veins than defiance ever has, and he tightens his grip without meaning to exactly. Nikaido pushes up against Yokoo's hand, groaning softly, but he keeps looking up at Yokoo with that same trusting gaze.
Before he gets carried away with power, Yokoo reaches for Nikaido's zipper and tugs it down. Nikaido is still trying to push up into Yokoo's touch, which is cute, but maybe a bit dangerous in context.
"Quit squirming, you," Yokoo warns. "If you get pinched, that'll put an end to this game pretty quick." Nikaido snorts but holds still, aside from shivering when Yokoo tugs his cock free and gives him a slow stroke. Yokoo eyes the couch and their position, debating. "Move up, against the arm."
"Why?" Nikaido asks, but he scootches up without waiting for the answer. It makes his pants slide down his thighs, which Yokoo has no objection about. He doesn't bother answering Nikaido's question; instead he leans down to flick his tongue against the tip of Nikaido's cock, watching Nikaido's face until his eyes widen in understanding.
"Okay?" Yokoo asks, not like he's planning on stopping regardless, but Nikaido nods as fast as he can make his head go up and down.
The noises that Nikaido starts making as soon as Yokoo gets his mouth around him properly are sweet and hot and not at all quiet enough for where they are. Yokoo doesn't pull his mouth away to tell him to shut up, though, which is just another example of how bad an idea this is. Instead he sucks harder, making Nikaido cry out. He curls one hand around Nikaido's hip to try and hold him steady, and the other he slides down to press against his own erection with the heel of his palm.
Fortunately for Yokoo's self-control, Nikaido is about as fast as his mouth, so it's only a few minutes before he's grabbing for Yokoo's hair and spilling over his tongue. They can work on that, later, when Yokoo isn't desperate for contact himself, when he isn't busy draping himself over Nikaido and fusing their mouths together, grinding down against Nikaido's thigh.
"Nng!" Nikaido tries to protest about where Yokoo's mouth has just been, but he melts after only a second or two. Ten seconds later he's sucking the last of his own taste off of Yokoo's tongue purposely, and Yokoo would roll his eyes if they were open.
"Touch me," he pulls his mouth away to gasp, too close to make it worth coaxing Nikaido into returning the favor. Later, he promises himself, later he can put Nikaido's big mouth to all sorts of better uses. Right now he'll settle for Nikaido's fingers.
His long, beautiful fingers, Yokoo amends mentally as Nikaido gets his pants out of the way and strokes him tightly from base to tip.
"That good?" Nikaido asks, and it's the fact that he genuinely is asking that makes it dirtier than any dirty talk Yokoo could have come up with.
"Keep talking," Yokoo says, burying his face against Nikaido's neck and flexing hips into his touch.
"About what?" Nikaido demands, then huffs a sigh when Yokoo groans anything. "You…you feel good, against me. And your…you feel good in my hand, hot and h-hard," Nikaido stumbles over his words cutely, making Yokoo shudder, "and this is totally embarrassing, so could you come already?"
He's close enough to almost do it. Yokoo reaches down and wraps his hand tight around Nikaido's, forcing him in rhythm. A few more strokes is all he needs to come, release striping their hands and Nikaido's stomach, Yokoo's groan muffled against Nikaido's neck.
When he lifts his head to look, Nikaido is examining the mess on his stomach with narrow eyes.
"It doesn't taste the same as yours," Yokoo comments on impulse, making Nikaido eye him instead.
"You're just trying to trick me into tasting it," he accuses, but his eyes flick back to Yokoo's come.
"Didn't have to trick you into tasting yours," Yokoo comments with a shrug, then laughs when Nikaido splutters. Yokoo swipes his fingers through the drying streaks, making Nikaido shiver, and brings his fingers to his mouth to suck one of them clean. He offers them to Nikaido, giving him plenty of time to back out.
Nikaido keeps glancing at him like he's waiting for the trick, but after a few seconds of Yokoo doing nothing but waiting patiently, his tongue darts out to lick one of Yokoo's fingers. Satisfied, Yokoo starts to pull his hand away, but Nikaido catches his wrist and leans forward to suck another finger clean entirely.
"It is different," Nikaido says, brow scrunched like the fact that everybody's dick isn't just like his own is an annoying math problem. He squirms when Yokoo wipes the rest of his hand back off on Nikaido's stomach. "Hey!"
"Loud," Yokoo admonishes, leaning in for another kiss before Nikaido starts arguing about that as well. It just seems easiest to shut Nikaido up that way, and Yokoo's good sense is still clouded over with endorphins. When he pulls back, Nikaido blinking at him from under heavy eyelids, and he warns, "We can't do this kind of thing if you're going to bring everybody running."
Nikaido opens his mouth before his brain catches up and his eyebrows rise. "You mean we can keep doing it?"
So dangerous, Yokoo scolds himself, sitting up to try and get at least a few centimeters of space in between the two of them, so full of bad ideas. He tries to play it cool with a casual, "I'm sure you can find yourself some cute playmates."
"What?!" Nikaido demands, sitting up and shoving at Yokoo's shoulder. "No way! With you, I mean, stupid. I want to do it with you."
Fuck, Yokoo thinks, closing his eyes a minute and trying to figure out how he can fix this without hurt feelings, if at all. He feels Nikaido's warmth lean in against his side, twine around his arm. When he opens his eyes, Nikaido is looking up at him cutely, cheek pressed against Yokoo's shoulder.
His eyes aren't cute, though; his eyes say he won't give up until he gets what he wants.
"Me?" Yokoo asks, giving good sense one last try. "You're sure?"
"Who the hell else?" Nikaido demands, a grin starting at the corners of his mouth, plainly sensing victory within reach. "Because you'll take care."
"I'm glad one of us trusts me," Yokoo murmurs, mostly to himself, before Nikaido crawls into his lap to kiss him properly, wrapping arms around Yokoo's neck and snuggling as close as he can.
Twenty-year-old Nikaido Takashi is all long legs and lean muscle, just enough sense to be entirely too dangerous. He also looks amazing drunk, eyes glassy and mouth wet, giggling at nothing as he rubs his cheek against Yokoo's shoulder.
"This is your birthday party, you know," Yokoo reminds, sipping at his own drink more slowly. He waves it towards the dance floor, where Tamamori thinks he's having a dance battle with Senga, and neither Kitayama nor Fujigaya seem to have noticed they are grinding with their backs against opposite sides of the same girl.
"Uh-huh," Nikaido answers vaguely. He tilts his head back to grin up at Yokoo. "Take me home, Watta?'
"Well okay, but your mother did say you could stay out past midnight now that you're an adult," Yokoo says, just to be a dick. On the floor, the girl slips away and Kitayama and Fujigaya are still oblivious. Pulling his phone out, he flips it open, zooms in, and snaps a picture, then mails it to Fujigaya's phone.
Sometimes his life is amazing.
"No, to your home," Nikaido demands, a very straight-forward drunk as it turns out. "We can't fuck at mine 'cause you're too loud, geez."
"I'm too loud," Yokoo repeats, chuckling. He drains the rest of his drink and sets his glass down, then turns to grin sharply at Nikaido. "How much noise will you make for me if I take you home, Nika-chan?"
"So much noise," Nikaido promises quickly, sliding in even closer to wrap arms around Yokoo's waist. He looks up at Yokoo with trusting eyes and a knowing grin. "You want me, right?"
"HEY!" Yokoo hears Fujigaya roar somewhere to the side. "WHAT THE FUCK!"
"Who the hell else?" Yokoo tells Nikaido, grabbing his hand and deciding now is an excellent time for a quick escape. "Idiot, let's go already."
They stumble out of the club into the night air and head for home, Nikaido clinging to Yokoo's arm as tightly as he can and laughing at nothing, and Yokoo thinking about all the better uses he can put Nikaido's big mouth to.